


Lost on You

by teamnicedynabitch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Multi, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24173785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamnicedynabitch/pseuds/teamnicedynabitch
Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi still remembers how soft your hands were when he helped you up the first time you met. In fact, he remembers everything about you. Including the way your lips brushed Oikawa’s, the soft words you spoke to someone who wasn’t him. You were never his, he knew that. But that didn’t dull the ache he felt knowing you were marrying someone else.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Lost on You

You’re 15, not yet through your first year of high school when it happens. You’re walking through the halls, not paying attention to where you’re walking, trying to figure some math problem out in your head, and you walk straight into a wall. At least, you thought it was a wall, until it apologised to you. Walls don’t tend to do that. You look up to see a hand outstretched, and follow the arm up to see a tall, mildly terrifying boy, wearing an unreadable expression. Definitely not a wall, then. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, its my fault. I have a tendency to not look where I’m going. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  
“No.” You think he might be a second year, and you’re too busy wondering why you recognise him to notice the way he stares at your hand after it leaves his, or the slight blush that paints itself on his cheeks. You realise he’s wearing a volleyball jacket, and it hits you. This must be Ushijima.  
“Oh, good… I’ll see you around, I guess. Um- good luck at the preliminaries.” It wouldn’t have been audible if the corridor hadn’t been silent, but the way you whisper it makes his heart skip a beat. You’re gone before he can thank you, but the impression you leave behind lingers. You might just be the first thing outside of volleyball he takes an interest in. 

* * *

He barely allows himself to hope when, the day after Shiratorizawa wins the finals, a note is taped to his locker. It’s simple, reading ‘good luck at nationals’, and he’d have brushed it off if he hadn’t seen you walking away from the area just a few minutes ago. Did you really come all the way here for this? You’d waved at him a few times since your first encounter, and he’d seen you in the crowd at the finals. You seemed nice enough, and interested in volleyball, so the chance that the handwriting was yours was at least a little high. It wasn’t like him, though, to hope that it had been you. In fact, the way you’d lingered on his mind since that meeting had been far from in character for the second year spiker. What was this?

Your friendship, at least that’s what he thought it was, blooms over the next few months. He doesn’t talk much, but you do, and you don’t seem to mind his monotone responses. The topic of conversation is usually volleyball anyway, and he’s comfortable with that. You’re quite the analyst, and he’d considered asking you to sign up at the club’s manager, but seeing you sporadically was distraction enough. He isn’t sure exactly what you’re doing to him, but it’s definitely something.

The first time you called him ‘Toshi’, he nearly chokes on his drink. He not a fan of the way his cheeks flush at the nickname, but if you notice then you don’t care. It ends up sticking, although you refuse to call him as such in front of his teammates, you didn’t want them to tease him and you had a feeling that at the very least, Tendou would never let it go. The nickname wouldn’t have caused in issue, but the way he blushes would. He finds himself grateful for your mercy. 

* * *

Shortly after the start of your second year- and his third- you approach him. You look nervous, refusing to meet his eye, and he kicks himself for where his mind takes him. Are you going to confess? He attempts to remove the thought from his head. He doesn’t have a shred of no evidence that you like him, and he hates when people jump to conclusions without anything to back them up. He does not want to be that person.   
“Toshi… can I ask you a favour?”  
“…Yes.”  
“Could you maybe… teach me to play volleyball? I don’t expect to be good at it or anything, I just… wanna know how."   
"Of course.”  
“Thanks Toshi!!” You hug him. It’s rather unexpected, but not unwelcome, although he's a little unsure of what to do with his hands- not wanting to make you uncomfortable. The two of you spend the following weeks in the gym together after practice. He.s trying so hard not to be distracted by everything about you; being distracted just isn’t like him. But you’re so pretty, the way your cheeks flush due to exertion, the way you bite your lip nervously when you don’t hit the ball quite right, the sheer excitement in your tone when you _do_ hit the ball right, and somehow make it seem like Wakatoshi deserved all the credit. 

He’s caught a glimpse of a necklace more than once, small and gold with a heart shaped pendant, and he desperately hopes it had been given to you by a close friend or a relative, rather than the other option. He knew by now that his heart belonged to you, and he wanted yours to belong to him too. He swore he’d tell you soon.

* * *

Shiratorizawa didn’t tend to do practice games with other high schools, their skill had far surpassed them and it offered no challenge. But for whatever reason, one against Aoba Johsai- probably their biggest rival in the prefecture- had been scheduled. He briefly commented on the oddity of this when he told you as you practiced with him, missing the way your face lit up at the news that Seijoh would be at your school.   
“You don’t pick the ballroom, Toshi. You just dance.” It was an odd metaphor, but he supposed it made sense. The way his mind drifts to dancing with you- with no mind paid to where- is the more pressing matter. As the two of you leave the gym an hour later, he doesn’t notice the way you hurriedly sent a text, nor does he see the line of hearts next to the contact name. 

When he sees you at the practice game a week later, standing with some other second years, he offers you a small wave. This is the first practice game you’d ever come to, your schedule always conflicting too much. He’s glad you’d made time for him, even if this isn’t an important game. And when Seijoh’s captain- ever the flirt- winks at you, Ushijima simply rolls his eyes. He doesn’t look at you, assuming your reaction would be similar. Perhaps he should have. 

* * *

The preliminaries were a breeze for Shiratorizawa, as usual. Nevertheless, he’s grateful for the support you show, turning up to every game they play. He enjoys sharing the victory with you, even when it was to be expected. You always tell him you’re proud of him. He doesn’t need to hear it, but Wakatoshi likes the way his heart fluttered when you say it. He pays no attention to the crowds when he played, and nobody can fault his concentration. Even with you there, he’s utterly focused. There’s only one time this proves to be a bad idea.

He’d promised himself a week earlier that if they won the semi-finals he would finally tell you how he felt- before he graduated and you slipped through his fingers. But when he scans the stands for your face after the win, you were nowhere to be seen. _(If he’d scanned them before the game, he’d have noticed you weren’t there at all._ ) He makes up his mind to find you, hoping you’re somewhere in the building still. He finds nothing but heartbreak, instead.

* * *

He stops walking at the sound of your soft voice, peering round the corner.   
“I’m so sorry, Tōru. I know how important this was to you, And I know you’re not gonna believe me, but you played excellently today.” He stopped in his tracks. Your hands are cupping the cheeks of Aoba Johsai’s captain, tears streaming down them. They lost the semi-finals, he’d heard that, but he hadn’t expected to see this.  
“If I’d played well we’d have won!”  
“You know that’s not always true. Karasuno have grown this year- in ways none of us could have imagined. Playing well and playing better than the other team are not the same thing, you know that. You fought so hard out there, and I’m so proud of you. I know how important this was, I’ve watched you run yourself ragged for months for this. I know I can’t make it better, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand here and let you beat yourself up.” Wakatoshi could tell by your tone that you were close to crying yourself, though he was unsure whether it was Oikawa’s anguish or Seijoh’s loss that was making you emotional. Perhaps both.   
“I don’t deserve you, Y/N, I’m a failure.”  
“Tōru, you deserve the world. And if I could give it to you wrapped in a bow, I wouldn’t hesitate. Come back to my place for tonight. I’ll take care of you.” He nods, reaching up to dry his eyes. Wakatoshi feels his heart break further- if that’s at all possible- as the setter places a soft kiss to your lips.   
“You really are too good for me.”  
“One day I’m gonna train Iwa to slap you whenever you say that.” That gets you a laugh from him, and you smile softly upon achieving your goal.   
“Y/N?”  
“Yes, love?”  
“I know this is a really dumb time to get insecure but… you don’t comfort Ushijima like this, do you?”  
“I don’t think I’ve ever comforted him in any way, to be honest. You don’t need to be jealous of my friendship with Toshi. That’s all its ever gonna be, you’re the only volleyball player in my heart.” As your voices fade in the distance, a certain wing spiker feels like he’s losing his grip on the composure he's renowned for. Not only is your heart most definitely not his, you sounded so certain that it never would be. This cast a new light on a lot of things, depending on how long you’d been with him. 

Did all of your volleyball knowledge last year come from your relationship with Oikawa? He was certain you hadn’t gotten close to him because of Oikawa’s one-sided rivalry with him, you were too down to earth to do anything like that, but he was also certain that this had been the reason you’d asked him to teach you to play. And the reason you’d turned up to the practice game a few months prior. The heart necklace that he’d almost prayed had been a platonic gift was probably given to you by the setter, too. Wakatoshi truly didn’t know how to feel, but he was aware of the heartbreak settling over him like a thick fog. You were never his, he’d always been aware of that, but he’d allowed himself to hope you could be. And now even that hope was stripped away.

* * *

Wakatoshi recalls all of this with a heavy heart as he reads the words on the small card he’d received in the mail. It’s been 4 years since high school, and he isn’t any less in love with you. That’s the peril of remaining friends, he supposes, but how was he supposed to say no when you asked him to keep in touch? How was he supposed to say no when you asked him anything, even this? He’s spent 4 years supporting your relationship, pretending it doesn’t tear him to shreds every time you mentioned Tōru. 4 years hating himself for hoping that one day you’d show up with a broken heart for him to mend. 4 years seeing sunlight in your eyes, knowing they shone for someone else. 4 years knowing that after all of the agony being in love with you put him through, he’d still find a way to bring the moon closer to earth for you if you asked him to, if he knew it would make you smile. Wakatoshi glares at the invitation he clutches in his fist, as if that might change what it says. Your name next to Oikawa’s brings an ache to his chest, and he barely notices as a tear drops onto the small card. He doesn’t want to go, but he knows he will. He’d go anywhere for you. Even your wedding. 


End file.
